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Maybe it was a mistake coming to Izzy’s on Friday night. Usually, he spends his evenings here on normal weekdays and avoids lousy crowds but today he couldn‘t stay in the apartment and booked it out of there the second he woke up and realized that he was sleeping alone on his shitty couch. He was most surprised that he was actually asleep on something softer than his wooden floors. Bucky didn’t think about the fact that his right side was still warm when he woke up and his door unlocked because Sam didn’t have the key to lock it as he left. Fucking asshole. He shouldn’t have let him in in the first place.
“You okay?” he lifted his eyes so they were no longer staring at his beer bottle and directed his glare at the brown-haired girl. Leah took a step back but her hands didn’t stop gently cleaning the glass in her hands. Shit, okay. He needed to tame his murder glare, as Dr. Raynor had nicely put it, and stop scaring people. And he certainly didn’t want to scare Leah who didn’t throw anything at his head once he showed up even if he ran out of their date.
“I think so,” he hated talking in this place and since Leah was standing within a reasonable distance from him Bucky needed to raise his voice slightly.
He wasn’t sure what being okay even meant. He thought he was okay yesterday morning but once Sam carved his little space on his couch he realized that maybe he wasn’t okay after all. He didn’t want to depend his okayness, he really needed to stop inventing his own words, on Sam but he couldn’t help his feelings. Ugh, that thought made him frown.
Leah didn’t say anything just send this little narrowed eye glance his way which almost made him scowl but he contained himself and lifted his beer bottle to take a huge gulp. He always wondered how many of these it would take to make him feel at least tipsy. Maybe tonight’s the night he’s going to find out.
He already dreaded Monday’s afternoon. He liked his therapist just fine, mind you, but she’s going to take one look at him and intensely announce that he’s heartbroken and make him spill his heart out. He didn’t have enough heart to have it broken. Maybe he was being overdramatic but he never claimed that he wasn’t and he sure as hell deserved to get drunk to nurture his wounded pride.
There were numerous things that Bucky didn’t get about his century. Like key cards. The first time he spent the night in a hotel after the war and after leaving Wakanda they gave him a key card and it took him an embarrassing amount of time to figure out how to swipe it in order to open the door. Why couldn’t they just use keys? Other technology was not that difficult, at least the one which allowed him to hijack something or break into somebody’s apartment, or car but his phone was confusing. Why did he have to press the same button so many times to get a certain letter? It made him tired just to think about it. Maybe that’s why he didn’t message Sam back – the buttons were tiring and he certainly wasn’t avoiding him.
Bucky also didn’t get Sam. The guy annoyed him for months after he clearly made it obvious that he wanted to be left alone, even if he didn’t really want that but Wilson couldn’t read minds, probably, showed up out of nowhere because apparently, his address is that easy to obtain, made him feel something, what he wasn’t going to name because he wasn’t sure he could even if he tried, and fucking left. The audacity.
He didn’t even message him the whole day today.
Bucky finished his beer bottle and resisted the urge to slump over the bar. He was an adult, a very old adult, and he will not do something so childish. Even though he really wanted to. Sam should have outright called him pathetic before leaving. It wouldn’t hurt to face the truth every once in a while.
The restaurant was kinda too loud for his liking but his apartment would be too quiet and he wasn’t feeling the whole being alone and brooding in the dark thing. Brooding at a public space with beer and Leah who send him concerned looks every now and then and was actually really nice, not unlike some people, was exactly what he needed.
He watched as she put down a couple of glasses underneath the bar and grabbed another beer bottle from the fridge underneath it before coming over to him. She leaned over and clasped her hands around the damp bottle while her wavy hair fell forward.
“You got something to say to me?” her voice was nice. It had a weird tilt to it and made him want to listen to her for hours but something was off. Before yesterday he didn’t know what it was because he repressed that part pretty strongly but now that he knew how it felt when Sam’s arm curled around his shoulders, how he didn’t mind the vibranium shoulder digging into his firm chest and how it felt to have someone play with his hair he knew what that something was. He really needed to stop thinking overall because he was reaching new levels of pathetic.
“I’m sorry for the other night?” he murmured looking straight into her eyes and was surprised when she smiled before pushing the bottle in his direction. Leah crossed her arms and crooked her hip to the left side so she could lean on the bar.
“What’s got you so broody? Got me scared for a second with your glares and everything,” she laughed and Bucky felt his heart skip a beat in his chest. He didn’t show it, he was not an amateur, excuse you, but it still felt like shit. He didn’t want to scare anyone, except a couple of dozen people on his amends list who deserved it.
“Believe me, you don’t wanna know,” he chuckled before lifting his current bottle and finishing it up. Bucky wondered how high the number of them will get as the night goes on and how much money he had in his pocket. He also didn’t get the money thing but he also didn’t buy furniture so he was okay on that aspect. Who needed a bed when he could buy beer and try to get drunk even though he was pretty sure it was almost impossible. Maybe changing beer to vodka or something even stronger will be the key.
“Does it have anything to do with the tall, dark and handsome coming your way and glaring at your back as if you killed his pet?” damn it, he was pretty sure Leah saw how his whole body tensed up and he almost broke the bottle in his hand. Realizing that he quickly let go and met her eyes for a second, which left him confused because there was a slightly smug look in them. Maybe she wanted revenge on him for running out and seeing him lose his shit was part of that?
He couldn’t blame her. He acted like an asshole.
“Are you stalking me?” Bucky turned his head slightly to the right just as he felt the very familiar presence on that side. Sam was glaring at him, sure, why not, as he leaned on the bar. He lifted his eyebrows and Bucky sighed dramatically, rolled his eyes, and grabbed the new beer bottle. He will certainly need it. Or maybe vodka. That was probably the better choice since beer didn’t do shit to him.
“I put a tracker in your phone. In case you want to disappear on me for two months again,” he shrugged as if that was not a big deal. Bucky probably should be pissed that his privacy once again was invaded but how could he when Sam’s shoulders looked really wide underneath his black jacket.
“You’re still milking that, huh? I thought we’re over it,” now it was Bucky’s turn to put on a mask of nonchalance as he sipped his newly opened beer. It tasted better than the last one but that was probably due to the fact that it was fresh from the fridge. Warm beer tasted like piss, but he drank worse so it wasn’t a big deal.
“Over it? I will be over it when I’m sure that once I turn my eyes away you won’t run off and disappear.”
“Why do you care?” Bucky turned his body fully towards Sam and tried to ignore how his knees brushed his jean-clad legs. He really needed to stop this whole pathetically pining after a guy who feels sorry for you act. While yesterday’s shirt which decorated Sam’s upper body was black and contrasted nicely with his skin, today it was dark green and way tighter than yesterday's. Bucky wondered if that was on purpose but how the hell would Sam know that the tighter his clothes were the more compliant Bucky was willing to become?
Okay, dangerous direction, especially since Sam was standing so close. Close enough that one of Bucky’s knees settled between his legs. It was warm and he really needed to stop thinking.
“Since when being worried is a crime?” Sam narrowed his eyes and looked straight into his. Were they fighting? His fights with Steve used to be different. They mostly concentrated around food, blankets, and self-sacrificial stupid assholes. This was different.
Their staring contest made him feel way too warm in the same shirt which he wore yesterday and his dark coat which he liked way more than his constricting and uncomfortable leather jacket. He could take off his coat since the shirt underneath was long-sleeved and he still had his trusted gloves on but being exposed like that made him feel vulnerable. One trick of light and somebody would notice that the arm underneath his thin, almost skin-tight shirt was darker than the rest of his body and didn’t move like his flesh arm.
Leah was the one who broke the thick tension between them as she placed another beer bottle before Sam and made him snap out of it. Bucky shook his head a little and turned back towards the bar trying to ignore how his knees brushed against Sam’s. He really needed to get a grip, this is becoming ridiculous.
“Thanks,” of course he would smile at the pretty brown-haired girl behind the bar who looked at him with curious eyes. As Leah flashed a small but nevertheless beautiful smile to Sam he scowled which didn’t go unnoticed by both of them. Leah went back to her work while the other man took a step forward so he was standing right next to him. So close that Bucky’s elbow brushed his chest every now and then. “C’mon Barnes, talk to me. Your mood swings are driving me insane.”
“Oh, so we’re back to Barnes, Wilson?” he was being petty. He wondered whether he was petty before Hydra but considering that he lived with the world's most annoying little shit he probably was. Or maybe this was new and something only Sam could bring out in him. Amongst the variety of other things, including something as disgusting as feelings.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re angry at me? As far as I’m concerned you’re the one who split and ignored-“
“Would you stop with that? Maybe I had a good reason and you’re here anyway so what’s the big deal?” he placed his beer bottle on the bar a little too harshly judging by the weird look he got from a man sitting a seat down his right. Sam didn’t pay any attention to that, just stared at his profile just like the night before. It probably should feel uncomfortable but it didn’t because he would rather Sam looked at him than beautiful Leah who was chatting up a couple of girls on the other side of the bar. Wow, that was a big one.
“Okay, leaving the past two anxiety-ridden months when I tried to reach you almost every single day and you didn’t respond because you had a good reason,” that was mocking. Bucky was pretty sure he was being mocked. That almost made him smile. “How about now? I came to your apartment and you weren’t there, didn’t answer when I called you and I had to track you down here.”
“You didn’t call me.”
“Did you check your phone? Yes, I did. Three times.”
“No, you didn’t-“
“Are you serious? Check your phone.”
“Fuck off, that’s not the point-“
“Then what is even the point with you? Enlighten me, please, because I have never been this confused,” Sam sighed loudly and slumped a bit. He turned around to grab an empty barstool and dragged it closer so he could sit down. He didn’t face the bar, just let his knees hit Bucky’s thigh and continued to stare at him. It should probably be uncomfortable but Bucky enjoyed the undivided attention a little too much.
It’s been a while since anyone looked at him. Actually looked. Dr. Raynor stared him down and scrutinized him to the point where it was uncomfortable because he was aware that she saw more than she let on. Yori didn’t look at him much but maybe that was for the better since he couldn’t bear it without ensured nightmare-filled night and Leah looked at him like she was enjoying his current suffering and also pitied him. Sam’s looks were different. Because he not only knew what Bucky was but he experienced it first hand and still enjoyed his presence and chased him down through half of New York.
Bucky turned his head and looked at him. Sam’s face was serious but the ever-lasting and well-known annoyance wasn't there. Bucky was so used to seeing it that he was thrown off for a second there. Sam always looked at him like he was annoyed at his whole existence and he was glad because that meant that he acknowledged his existence. But a lot of things changed since then and he was pretty sure that their relationship was one of these things.
“Did you know that I can speak over twenty languages fluently?” he murmured as he took a long drag of his beer. Bucky ignored how Sam’s eyes followed his throat for a second before coming back to his eyes.
“So it’s not only Russian and Romanian, huh?” he was taking it in stride. God help him, this man is going to drive him up the wall or render him completely insane.
“The point is I didn’t learn them. They were implanted in my brain so now I can watch German soap operas at two am and understand everything that’s being said without subtitles. The same thing is with,” he stopped for a second and swallowed even though his mouth was dry. “relationships. I don’t know what I want because I still have difficulty figuring out which things I learned myself and which ones are Hydra given.”
“Are you implying that Hydra implanted homosexuality in you?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed and Bucky couldn’t stop himself. A quiet laugh escaped his mouth and he could feel an actual smile on his face. The same one he could feel when he read Sam’s messages about his adventures with Sarah and his nephews and random shit which Joaquin Torres managed to ask him. He didn’t feel so bad when Sam smiled and laughed with him.
“That part was certainly there before Hydra, I can assure you,” his throat felt like a fucking desert so Bucky quickly grabbed his beer and gulped the rest of it down. He really wished alcohol affected him because he really needed it now. Since when he was so bad at this? As far as he remembered he was a quick flirt back in the day.
But back in the day, Sam Wilson didn’t look at him with those bright and wide eyes of his and an easy smile on his face.
“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t get your hopes up,” not that there was something worth getting his hopes up apart from constant nightmares, his intrusive thoughts, and random shit which popped in his head at the least convenient times. “Cause, you know. I’m fucked in the head and my brain is so mushy you could drown in it like a sinkhole.”
Sam was still looking at him. Bucky was pretty sure he hadn’t turned his eyes away for longer than a couple of seconds ever since he came in here. That was probably a good sign but who knows. Maybe he was plotting how to murder him and throw his body off the bridge. Brooklyn Bridge was not that far away if he would take a car and he was pretty sure that Sam didn’t walk here all the way from his apartment building.
“You’re really something, huh,” that wasn’t a question but Bucky still shrugged and swallowed again. Why the hell was his throat so dry, the worst was already over. He kind of confessed, even though you would never hear him say that out loud, and Sam didn’t brush him off, didn’t laugh at him, instead, he laughed with him, and didn’t leave. He was actually smiling as he was looking at him. That will take some getting used to.
“Trouble in paradise?” Leah leaned over the bar and Bucky’s eyes ran straight to her. She still looked smug and he wanted to glare at her but his glares tended to scare people and he didn’t want to do that. A small smile rested on her face and made her already soft features look even softer. She really was pretty and dim lights above her head cast shadows on her small form.
“Not anymore, I think. But who knows with him,” Sam answered once he realized that Bucky’s mouth was sealed shut for this moment. He was still trying to sort out the jumble in his head and it was proving to be quite difficult. Maybe he should leave it for later. But Sam probably wouldn’t appreciate it, if he sat there as confused as ever.
Since when he knew Sam good enough to guess what he liked and didn’t like?
“Yeah, he’s one of a kind. Ran out of our date like his ass was on fire and showed up today as if nothing happened,” Leah shrugged her thin shoulders covered by a brown cardigan with big buttons. Bucky didn’t dare to glance at Sam.
“A date, huh? Well, he ignored me for over two months because he had a good reason-“
“For how much longer will you grill my ass about it?” he could hear Leah’s quiet laughter as she grabbed her rag and cleaned the surface where her hands were. Sam looked way too smug for Bucky’s liking as their eyes met once again when the older man turned to his left and inserted his left leg between Sam’s thighs. Fuck, he had warm and nice thighs. He had nice everything actually, but Bucky spent so much time trying to ignore those thoughts that now it was a bit overwhelming to welcome them with open arms.
“You two need anything else?” Leah asked once their staring contest lasted longer than thirty seconds and she realized that it won’t stop anytime soon.
“Vodka,” Bucky glanced in her direction, saw how her eyebrows shot up for a moment before she nodded to herself and turned around. He turned his eyes back to Sam and put on his brave face.
It was probably going to be a long night but Sam was here and he put a fucking tracker in his phone of all things just so he wouldn’t leave him again so maybe this time he won’t get scared shitless of his irrational feelings, ugh, and run with a metaphorical tail between his legs.
Dr. Raynor’s gonna have a field day once he tells her he not only managed to sleep on a couch for a night but also, probably, got the guy. If he didn’t fuck this up completely but what’s the worst what could happen? Every imaginable bad experience he already carried under his belt so what’s one more if it doesn’t work out.